


PTSD: Post Torchwood Stress Disorder

by Waldo



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Episode: s01e04 Cyberwoman, Hurt, M/M, PTSD, Suicide of Original Characters, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-11-17
Updated: 2007-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-05 12:26:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waldo/pseuds/Waldo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been two and a half years since Canary Wharf.  It's been a year since Lisa.  And Jack is just now realizing what the real toll has all been on Ianto and the other survivors of Torchwood One.  Now he needs to fix a big thing done badly before anyone else dies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A while back I wrote a story called ['Thursday' Is the Wrong Answer](http://smallwaldo.livejournal.com/47793.html). In it, I posited that there were only 12 survivors of Torchwood One.  Someone then pointed me to semi-canon source that listed 27 survivors.  A third person then suggested that just because 27 people were alive at the end of the Battle of Canary Wharf, that doesn't mean that a year, two years, whatever, later that all of those people would still be alive.  That idea wouldn't leave me alone.  I also posit that even though Jack says in the opening narration that Torchwood is 'separate from the government' that there has to be some kind of government oversight committee.  Someone's paying to keep their lights on and paying for all that pizza and Chinese food.

 

 

Jack stood behind the bead curtain watching Ianto talk to the two teenaged girls in reception. He looked exceptionally smart today in a black suit with a bluish-silver shirt that made his eyes stand out.

He shook his head as he realized what Ianto never would. Those two sixteen year olds, who if Jack was any judge of accents were from London, were incredibly hot for Ianto. The redhead kept trying to repeat back the directions Ianto was giving them and Jack swore she was getting them wrong on purpose just to keep Ianto talking. He couldn't blame her. He was hot for Ianto's accent as well.

When the fourth or fifth dippy mistake failed to impress upon Ianto how much this girl really wasn't interested in finding Cardiff Castle, Jack made his way out and not-so-casually wrapped his arms around Ianto's waist. "You going to eat lunch sometime soon or what?" He planted a noisy kiss on Ianto's cheek.

Ianto straightened and cleared his throat, disentangling Jack's hands. "I'll be there directly. As soon as I help these young ladies find Cardiff Castle."

The brown haired girl with the glasses grabbed the map out from under Ianto's hand. "I think we can find it now. Thanks." They both bolted for the door snickering behind their hands.

"Jack!" Ianto scolded as the reception door shut behind the girls. "I'm not sure we need to traumatize the honest-to-goodness tourists."

"Traumatize hell," Jack said rolling his eyes. "You were the only one in the room who didn't notice how hot those girls were for you." Jack spun him back around and kissed him again, this time on the mouth. This time Ianto responded.

"I'm still theoretically working up here. I don't think we need to be giving young girls any ideas that –"

Jack kissed him again. "If they're sixteen or seventeen or whatever those girls were and they don't already _have_ ideas… well, then I think it _is_ our duty to give them something to think about."

Ianto laughed and pulled back. "So Tosh has brought lunch back, has she?"

"Yeah, sandwiches, come on." Jack grabbed Ianto's hand and leaned over to hit the Very Secret Button to let them back into the hub, but before he could hit it, the door to reception opened again. Jack was relieved to see that it was just the letter carrier.

"Today's post," the older man said cheerfully as he handed over half a dozen envelopes and a small box to Ianto.

"Thank you, Evan," Ianto said politely before going over and flipping over the sign and locking the door to the little shack.

As he crossed back, he flipped through the mail. Jack could see that something about the second envelope seemed to have caught his attention. "Ianto?"

Ianto set the rest of the stack on the counter and held up the one thin envelope he'd been staring at. "Go ahead to lunch, Jack. I'll be down momentarily." His voice was hollow, as if he already knew what was in the envelope and dreaded it.

"You okay?" Jack asked, not liking the sudden way the mood had changed in the little tourist hut.

Ianto nodded. "I just need to see to this. I'll be down directly."

Jack took the hint. He was being sent away so Ianto could read his letter in private. "Holler if you need anything," he said as he hit the button and headed back downstairs to eat.

&lt;{*}&gt;

"You've been looking at your watch like it might not be there if you don't keep checking on it," Tosh chided as she reached over to help herself to the crisps on Jack's sandwich wrapper.

"It's been over fifteen minutes," he muttered, standing up and tossing the rest of his turkey club onto the table. He left to a mix of shouts and questions from his confused team.

He pushed the door open slowly, looking around to be sure Ianto was still there. He wasn't in the main area or behind the counter. Jack stepped through and looked through the beads. Ianto was at his secondary computer terminal talking on his mobile.

"Marc checked in with Elizabeth… was she the one who – Oh, I see. Yes. No, I have the new list, damn it's getting short –" Ianto looked up as he saw Jack back up in reception. "Forward me the details, yeah? Next week? Yes, well, it'll have to be here or Glasgow. No, I'm okay; he can come here. Yes, I suppose. I guess we can decide then. Yes. Yes, you too. Good-bye."

Jack waited until he heard the beep of the mobile disconnecting. "Everything okay?"

Ianto sighed and scrubbed his hands across his face. "Nothing I can't handle," he said predictably.

"Anything I can help with?" Jack asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"No. Thank you, but no." Ianto stood up and squeezed past Jack, clearly trying to escape the concern and the questions.

Jack grabbed his arm as he went past. "Ianto?"

"Later, alright? After the others are gone. I just need to get through the day. Please."

Jack wasn't sure he'd ever seen Ianto admit to being less than perfectly okay. Not after Lisa, not after the cannibals, not even after Jack had disappeared and returned seven weeks later (from Ianto's perspective) without even saying good-bye.

Jack loosened his grip, letting his hand rub gently up and down Ianto's arm. "Alright, if that's what you need. If you change your mind, I'll be in my office most of the afternoon."

Ianto smiled tightly. "I'm going to leave reception closed for the afternoon if you don't mind, sir."

Jack nodded. "That's fine."

Ianto nodded in return and then fled down the corridors, where Jack knew, he'd bury himself in the archives until he felt like being seen again. Jack wrote off any possibility of getting anything else done. Despite knowing that it was futile, Jack knew he'd spend the afternoon trying to deduce what the hell had put that haunted look back in Ianto's eyes. The one he hadn't seen since after Lisa.

&lt;{*}&gt;

Jack had subtly shooed everyone else home at a little after half four in hopes of getting Ianto to come up and talk that much earlier, but since Ianto had been about eight levels below the main work floor categorizing the section on alien texts and scrolls and leaflets, it wasn't the most successful tactic. At nearing six, Jack decided to go after him. No point in them both being miserable.

He scuffed his shoes as he finally found him, trying not to startle him. "Everyone's gone home. Want to come upstairs for a while?" He'd seen Ianto do this before – he'd work until midnight or later when he was upset so that by the time he got home he'd be too exhausted to do anything other than fall over and sleep.

Ianto nodded without turning to actually look at Jack. He reached up to the top shelf of the unit he was currently rearranging and took down the letter that had started all this. When he turned to follow Jack, Jack held out a hand, not sure if Ianto was still annoyed with the earlier public display of affection, but hoping Ianto would accept the offered comfort. He let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding when Ianto wove his own fingers through his.

When they got upstairs, Jack led him over to the couch across from Tosh's station instead of into his office. Less formal, less crowded. A lot easier to sit thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder. There was a bottle of peppermint schnapps and two glasses on the table in front of the sofa – Jack had gotten the bottle after another one of Gwen's silly games where she got everyone to go around and spout out personal information. She'd been annoyed one night that all Jack had for her to get drunk on after a spectacularly bad night of Weevil chasing was whiskey. She wasn't fond of whiskey or it's hangover. So she'd had everyone name their preferred poison in that silly round-robin style of hers. Jack had laughed off her silly game like he always did, but then he'd bought a bottle of everything they'd named the next day and hidden them down in the dresser in his quarters for occasions like this.

Jack poured what would have been three shots easily into Ianto's glass and just over a shot into his own. He watched as Ianto took a healthy swallow and waited to see if he'd start talking on his own. Ianto still had the envelope in his hand. Jack tapped it gently. "Want to tell me what happened?"

Ianto took another swallow of his drink. "As of Tuesday there are exactly eleven survivors of Canary Wharf left."

Jack let out a sigh and pulled Ianto against him. "There were twenty-seven, right?"

Ianto nodded and then leaned down to set his glass on the floor and tuck his letter into his inside jacket pocket. "There were eight hundred and twenty-three of us. Twenty-seven of us were still breathing after the attack. Bethany died of lung cancer last March. The doctors thought she inhaled something toxic in the fire. Derrick went to UNIT after…" there was a pause as he leaned down to grab his glass again and took a swallow of his drink. "After. He died in an incident in Northern Africa. There have been a total, now, of nine successful suicides. And four of us died before we were let out of quarantine."

"Quarantine?" Jack asked. His head spun with trying to grasp nine suicides and sixteen total deaths and a quarantine period. It seemed easiest to start with the quarantine. Somehow he'd never stopped to think about what would have happened to the survivors immediately after the battle.

"They didn't call it that, but…" Ianto picked up his glass again. "No one walked away from that battle without some kind of injuries." Ianto turned his right hand over and stared at his palm. Jack had long ago noticed the very faint lines of scars across his fingers and palm, but he'd never asked. "The building was on fire." Ianto squeezed his eyes shut before continuing. "I remember thinking that this must be where the expression 'hell on Earth' came from. It was so hot and so hard to breathe. I found Lisa, she was half encased with metal and the metal was holding heat." He showed Jack his hand. "My hand fused to a couple of the hottest places. The paramedics had to basically cut us apart."

Jack's eyes went wide. He wasn't sure why he'd assumed that Ianto's scars from London were all on the inside. Probably because all he knew of what had happened to him in the immediate aftermath had to do with taking care of Lisa, and he'd assumed he couldn't have done that while injured. He took Ianto's hand in his, gently stroking the uneven marks. "How'd you take care of her?"

"We were all in hospital for a while. Smoke inhalation, burns…other assorted injuries. Not to mention we were all pretty shaken up. Just over three percent of Torchwood London had survived. We were all…" He quickly took a drink of his schnapps instead of finishing his sentence. "God why is this all coming up tonight?" Another drink drained the glass. Jack took it from him and refilled it.

"Probably because for the first time since you left London, someone's asked," Jack said softly turning so he could lean Ianto against his chest and rub his back. "Have you had a chance to talk to anyone about any of this?"

"You mean besides the shrink the government oversight committee sent down after it all happened?" Ianto's voice was bitter, obviously he didn't have much respect for whomever had been sent to counsel the survivors. "We talk to each other. I think maybe people would be surprised how much we still talk to each other. Sometimes someone will … pull back a bit, stop coming to our little 'social gatherings', but we always check in. But so far even when people try to put it behind them, they still end up coming back." He took a long swig of schnapps. "I did." He put his hand back into his jacket pulling out the letter again. "We always let everyone know where to send the Letters."

Jack was full of questions now. He wondered if asking them would help Ianto organize what had to be a complete whirlwind of chaotic thoughts or if it would just come off as pushy and prying. He wanted to keep him talking, even if his own comprehension of the events ended up being sacrificed. He decided the best thing to do was ask if he should ask. "You've never talked about this to someone who wasn't there, then?" he asked quietly, dropping a soft kiss into Ianto's hair.

Ianto shook his head.

"Do you want me to ask questions now or should I wait until you're not feeling quite so raw?" He combed his fingers through Ianto's hair.

Ianto sat up and pulled away. "I'm not making any sense, am I? Dammit!"

"Whoa, whoa, come back here." Jack pulled him in and shushed him with his voice and hands. Jack thought was an odd reaction and by the look on Ianto's face he wasn't quite sure why he'd had it himself. Jack hugged him tight. "It's not that you aren't making sense – you are, but there are… I still have questions. Like, 'what are the letters for?'"

Ianto realized how far back he'd have to go to explain the letters. And he realized how painful it was to talk about what a debacle it'd all been. "It's a very long story, Jack." He took another drink, wondering when he'd start feeling numb. Feeling numb would be good now.

Jack kissed him softly again. "I'm not trying to pry. I'm really not. I just want you to know you _can_ talk to me."

"I know," Ianto said quickly. "It's not that – it's just… damn it's a long story." A sudden realization hit him. "But I think I do want to talk about it." For the first time in his life he realized that he wanted someone else to understand what had happened _after_ the Cybermen had been destroyed. How Torchwood had pretty universally failed those few who had survived.


	2. Chapter 2

"Come here," Jack said, setting his own glass aside. He carefully removed Ianto's jacket and then his tie. He kicked off his own shoes and encouraged Ianto to do the same. "Let's get comfortable. I'm getting the impression this could take some time." When Ianto looked like he was going to apologize or back out, Jack kissed him softly. "I have all night. I just figure we might was well be comfortable while we talk."

Ianto reached up and unbuttoned his top two buttons. Jack turned to stretch out on the sofa, his back against the arm. Ianto let Jack pull him around until he was lying on the couch, his head on Jack's chest. Jack's strong heartbeat under his ear calming him. They both wiggled and shifted until their glasses and the bottle were within reach and they were both comfortable.

"Tell me about the letters," Jack whispered as they settled.

Ianto found himself fiddling with a button on Jack's shirt. "Aside from the four who died before we were released, we were all ready – physically anyway – to leave the hospital no more than three weeks after we'd arrived. My hands still hurt a little, but I was able to dress and feed myself without too much difficulty, and aside from Karen, I was the one with the worst actual injuries. Well, not including Lisa, but that's another very long story. Anyway, they wouldn't release any of us even after the doctors signed us out. We were kept in what we ended up terming quarantine for ten weeks. We had very little contact with the outside world. Even our access to things like newspapers and television was very strictly monitored and censored. We were told it was because we were all PTSD patients as well as burn victims and whatnot and they didn't want to risk upsetting us by showing us the news. We never felt comfortable with that explanation."

He stopped picking at Jack's shirt and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was starting to get a headache from the stress. He felt Jack's hand gently passing over the back of his head. Stroking him, petting him, calming him. He squeezed Jack's ribs in thanks for the support before taking a deep breath and pressing on. He wasn't sure how much of this he'd be able to go through tonight, but he'd at least get through explaining the Letters if it killed him. "We didn't talk about it in quarantine, we strongly suspected we were being monitored, but we weren't really receiving counseling. Not like we expected. It felt … we felt like we were being programmed. What to say when people asked where we'd been during the battle, where we'd been while we were in hospital. I remember Marc and I got really upset one day in the 'group session' about how we couldn't hear anything about how the world was reacting to what had happened – we didn't know yet about the 'drugs in the water supply' white washing of it all. We wanted to hear about how our colleagues who'd died were being remembered – if anyone gave a damn about us." Ianto took a deep breath trying not to relive the anger as he spoke about it. "We spoke up. As far as I know it was the first and only time in ten weeks that anyone spoke up about it all."

"The only time?" Jack pressed, worried now that Torchwood HQ had simply added insult to injury – or possibly in this case injury to injury – in which case he'd be having a four-letter-word or several with someone in the government oversight committee. He also saw that shades of that programming were still in place. He could see that they'd been told that their explanations of what had happened at the Torchwood Tower hadn't made sense. That trying to explain what they'd seen and lived through made them sound insane. They'd been forced to reword and redefine the experience so many times that they'd ended up changing their answers until they were giving the answers Downing Street wanted. Jack wondered how best to go about undoing that leftover damage.

"We were never hurt," Ianto continued, "but it was… strongly impressed upon us that we needed to cooperate for the good of the Institute. For the good of England." The loathing dripped from Ianto's voice. "We learned to play along until we could get released. 'Lie and think of England' one of the girls said once we got out. It became something of a joke and a motto." Ianto took a deep breath. "Somewhere around week six or seven we all started wondering if we were going to be prisoners for the rest of our lives. There were certainly no indications that they had any plans to ever let us go. But we played along."

He went back to fiddling with the button, twisting it back and forth on the thin strings that held it to Jack's shirt. Jack's hands were still in his hair and he closed his eyes and gave himself a few minutes to simply focus on the tingling in his scalp as Jack gently scratched and stroked. He wondered if they'd end up sleeping right there on the couch that night. He felt so damn tired. And it wouldn't be the first time Jack had failed to wake him in order to move them both to somewhere more comfortable.

"So they let you go?" Jack prompted.

"Finally. And with no warning at all. They just suddenly showed up with a pair of clean jeans and a gray jumper for each of us and told us we could go. Our flats and houses had been maintained in our absence and our back pay was deposited to our accounts with enough extra to keep us going while we decided what to do next." He let out a short breath. "I was so sure we were going to be retconned on the way out the door… or shot… I didn't know."

"So they just … dumped you after ten weeks in a hospital with no contact with the outside world?" Those four-letter-words were multiplying.

"Meaghan said our insurance had run out and NHS wasn't going to cover in-patient stays for PTSD. I think she meant it as a joke, but it's as good an explanation as any. Somehow they'd gotten our house keys for us… so we had clothes that weren't really ours, a bus card and key. And we were on our own."

Jack squeezed him tight. "God Ianto, that's horrible. I had no idea."

Ianto shrugged. "It's not like we were six-year-olds or abandoned kittens. We each had a place to go."

"That still… it doesn't…" Jack couldn't imagine abandoning his team when things had gone badly. He suddenly gathered Ianto in close, hugging him for all he was worth as he tried valiantly to suppress the tears in his eyes. If Ianto wasn't going to cry over this he sure as hell wasn't. But it went so far to explain why Ianto seemed so grateful for any little attention paid him after a bad day or frightening incident. He was glad Ianto didn't seem too inclined to ask where the sudden surge of emotion had come from.

"We decided to go to Ethan's place. None of us wanted to go home alone. We wanted to talk. So we went to Ethan's and, well, first we searched the place high and low for listening devices – not that the whole thing had made us paranoid or anything – but for about a week we camped out on Ethan's living room floor. Most of us went back to our own places for a bit in a day or two, but for the nights… we felt safer together."

"You got twenty-seven people in one guy's flat?" Jack asked. He'd seen places with population control issues. Any one- or two-room flat with more than ten people had made him claustrophobic. And he was okay with rubbing elbows or whatever body parts were available with someone he didn't know too well, but that kind of rampant crowdedness always made him uneasy.

"Twenty-two. Four died in hospital and Lisa… Lisa was still in hospital under guard."

"Still…" Jack said, cringing.

"And it wasn't a flat, it was a nice house actually. Basement, three bedrooms, living room. All we needed was enough space for a pillow and our bodies. We just didn't fancy being completely alone at first."

"Makes sense," Jack said kissing the top of Ianto's head, encouraging him to go on.

"So anyway, trying to make this ridiculously long story short, we stayed there for a few days while we got our feet under ourselves again. Jacklyn came in one day with diaries for us all. We all wrote our addresses and phone numbers in them as well as messages for each other. Something to hang on to at night when we started staying in our own places. Sometimes we'd call each other and talk until we fell asleep on the line." Ianto shrugged against Jack, suddenly abashed at having admitted that.

"Sounds like you had good people taking care of you. And I know they had at least one good person taking care of them." Jack squeezed him again.

Ianto hugged Jack back, but then there was a definite change in him. Jack kissed his head and wove his fingers through Ianto's in silent encouragement. "Jacklyn and Adam had gotten together while we'd been in hospital and when we got out, he went to stay with her." Jack could hear Ianto swallow several times before he was able to say, "He was the first."

Jack didn't need to ask 'first what'.

"He seemed to be having a harder time with the stress than the rest of us. We all had hoped that Jacklyn'd be able to help him. To keep him stable. And no matter how much we all tell her that we know she did everything she could for him… She came back from a weekend at her mother's about a month after we'd been released, to find him hanging from the banister."

"Aw hell, Ianto. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Ianto said with a shrug and such casualness that Jack wondered how many times Ianto had heard those words without any real feeling behind them.

Jack wasn't a hundred percent sure that it wasn't his fault. In the aftermath of the Cybermen and the fall of the Tower he had taken over Torchwood; lock, stock and barrel. What he'd never done was follow up on those who didn't die at Canary Wharf. The Doctor had made him a better man than that. Now he was having a hard time not getting lost in his own guilt, the only thing keeping him from getting caught up in it was the fact that Ianto didn't need that. He needed solid support and understanding and a way to move forward. Jack kissed the top of his head. "I know, but I'm still sorry that after everything you'd been through, you had to deal with that so soon."

Ianto just shrugged again, clearly at a loss for how to deal with Jack being upset over the death of someone he'd never met. "Jacklyn couldn't call us to tell us. Meaghan had called her at some point and Jacklyn told her and then Meaghan ended up calling everyone else. But Jacklyn felt that somehow it was her responsibility to let us know what had happened. Adam had left a note… things he wanted each of us to know… So Jacklyn wrote us all Letters. It started something of a tradition. Whenever one of us… When it gets to be too much… Whoever finds out first or whoever knew them best writes each of the rest of us a Letter to let us know. It's… kind of funny. Sometimes we'll hear through some other channels or from someone further up on the check-in tree… if we don't know if Letters are being written… sometimes we'll get three or four. No one wants to risk that someone's Letters…" Ianto suddenly took a deep breath and Jack felt a warm spot developing right under where the corner of Ianto's eye rested against his shirt. "… won't get sent," he finished raggedly.

"Ianto?" Jack brushed his hair back trying to see his face from their awkward position with Ianto's head almost right under Jack's chin. He'd been so calm for most of the discussion. "What is it?"

Ianto lurched upright, sitting on the other end of the couch, visibly trying to pull himself together, even as he hid his face behind his hands. "I'm okay," he mumbled through his fingers.

"You say that so often I never know when to believe you," Jack said as he moved slowly to get his arm back around Ianto's shoulders. "What happened there?" he asked again.

"I just… I…" Ianto dropped his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling trying to force himself to stay calm. Despite his attempts to keep it steady, his voice still broke as he admitted, "I just wonder sometime who will bothered to write Letters for me."

Jack fervently hoped that wasn't a thinly veiled reference to some suicide attempt either past or planned. "Oh, Ianto…" He pulled him into a tight hug. "Let's not need those Letters, okay? Let's just keep you right here, alive and well. Hm?"

Ianto sniffled and snuggled into Jack's shoulder. The storm over as quickly as it had come. "Of course. I didn't mean… It's just… There's only eleven of us now, Jack. Eleven from eight hundred twenty-three. Eleven of twenty-seven. No matter how you look at, it's … horrible. Nine suicides, Jack."

Jack nodded against Ianto's head. "Whose Letter did you get today?" he asked quietly.

Ianto tightened his hand around the back of Jack's braces. "Marc. He always seemed to be the one of us who coped the best."

"Besides you, huh?" Jack asked softly.

Ianto snorted. "Hardly." He took a deep breath. "See, even back then, Jack, some of them worried about the level of my devotion to Lisa. Meaghan, Marc, Lee… they all told me I was a little far gone when I explained that I planned to come here, back to Cardiff to work for Torchwood again… if it meant I could get her somewhere safe. They were starting to experiment on her in hospital. They weren't trying to cure her; they just wanted to… make her a guinea pig. I was convinced that some of them wanted to take their revenge for Canary Wharf out on her, like she'd been out there converting people and destroying…" Ianto trailed off his breathing uneven. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'm sorry I brought her here, but I had to get her out of that place. Please understand. Please."

Now Ianto was in tears the likes of which Jack hadn't seen since the night they'd been forced to terminate Lisa in the basement. "Shh. Shh." Jack whispered as he rocked him back and forth.

"They all thought I was crazy, but they helped me anyway. Helped me get her out of hospital… Ethan's a doctor, he kept her alive until I could get her on the equipment I had here… they helped me get her set up… I'm sorry. I'm sorry…"

Ianto's words were broken by sobs and hiccupping breaths. Jack was starting to wonder if he'd hyperventilate if he didn't calm down soon. "Shh. Shh. I just wish you had told me. I have no idea if we could have helped but… I like to think we could have tried." He ran his hand up and down Ianto's spine. "But I think I understand why you weren't trusting Torchwood bureaucracy to support you at that point."

Ianto was still shaking and whispering, "I'm sorry," between sobs. Jack realized that he'd taken care to get to know Ianto better after the whole sordid Lisa mess, but that they'd never talked about it. Neither of them had really ever apologized. "I'm sorry too," he whispered as he continued to rock Ianto whom he hoped was about to cry himself to sleep.

Ianto calmed quickly. Too quickly in Jack's estimation. He couldn't imagine how much repressing Ianto had to have done in his endeavor to get himself through quarantine and then get Lisa out of the hospital. And sneak her into Torchwood Three, but they were trying to get past that tonight. Jack kissed the top of his head again. "Come down stairs and go to bed," he whispered. "If you want to talk more we can get coffee and head down to the docks in the morning. Right now I think you need some sleep."

Ianto pulled himself up from the sofa and grabbed his suit coat. "I should get home."

Jack caught his arm before Ianto could actually take a step and pulled him back down to the sofa. "Sleep downstairs tonight," Jack said softly. "I'm probably only going to sleep for an hour or two. I can sleep up here if you really want to be alone," he added patting the sofa they were sitting on.

Ianto looked at the floor between his feet. "I really don't."

"Good," Jack squeezed his shoulder. "Go on down. I'll make sure Myfanwy is in for the night." He watched as Ianto headed off for his office and the portal to the downstairs bedroom.

After a few steps Ianto turned back. "Meaghan doesn't believe me that we have a pteradactyl here and that we haven't dissected it and had it stuffed and mounted."

"We'll get you a picture you can give her," Jack said with a grin.

"Oh yes, because no one at Torchwood knows how to doctor a photograph," Ianto said with a half-smile that almost reached his eyes.

"Well, you'll just have to bring her back here so they can meet face to beak." Jack wasn't sure if he was glad to see Ianto acting a bit more normally or if it was too normal too fast. Ianto had all but admitted to having untreated PTSD. Not that Jack was entirely sure what to do with that information. It wasn't as if Torchwood Three kept a psychiatrist on retainer. And Owen's bedside manner was for crap.

Deciding to muddle through on his own for the time being, Jack set about getting the hub ready for the night.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning they were all clustered around the conference table sorting through and prioritizing the latest gifts from the rift when Ianto's mobile rang. He glanced at the caller I.D. and excused himself. Jack watched through the glass as he made his way to his desk. He'd only glimpsed the screen for a second, but he thought it had said 'Meaghan'. Which meant it was likely more information about the funeral Ianto had learned about yesterday.

Jack made a face and dismissed everyone, ignoring the questions and complaints that they weren't done. He almost had to get short with Tosh who finally clued in that the phone call, the sudden dismissal and Ianto's sullen mood that morning were all tied together. And of course she didn't want to let him go until he'd explained.

By the time he'd managed to, more or less politely, convince her to go away and mind her own business, Ianto was heading back towards Jack's office.

Ianto gave Tosh a tight smile as she passed and she returned it. Ianto fell onto the couch in Jack's office and handed over a sheet of paper. "This is the funeral information. I'm going to take a hotel room in London for the night and I'll come back the next morning, if you don't mind."

Jack moved from his chair to sit next to Ianto. "Why don't you let me go with you?"

Ianto looked up at him like that hadn't made any sense. "Why would you want to go to the funeral of someone you've never met?"

"I wouldn't be going for him, Ianto," Jack said pointedly.

Ianto suddenly understood, but two and a half years of dealing with this on his own had made him independent to a fault. "Oh. I appreciate the thought, I do, but…"

"But what?" Jack pressed.

Ianto pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jack had been so understanding of everything that he'd been going through lately. He honestly believed that Jack wanted to do this for him – make the trek out to London and attend the funeral of a total stranger – just so Ianto wouldn't have to be alone. Deep inside he truly wanted Jack to go with him, but he wasn't sure how to admit that without making it look like he wasn't handling the aftermath of Torchwood One less than perfectly. He couldn't understand why, after eight other suicides and a total of sixteen deaths, including Lisa's; why after two and a half years that included ten weeks in quarantine and 'programming', he suddenly felt like the world was coming down around him again.

"Look, this says the funeral is the day after tomorrow. You just let me know sometime before then. I don't want to intrude, but you don't have to do this alone any more." Jack squeezed Ianto's shoulder as he got up and then left him the office to collect himself.

Predictably, Ianto disappeared into the archives for the rest of the day. Jack left him alone and convinced everyone else to do the same. They fended for themselves for lunch and no one bitched that Ianto hadn't come around with coffee. At a little after two, Ianto became annoyed with everyone pussy-footing around him, but not actually bothering to ask what was wrong. He went to Jack's office to say he was going home. He knew Jack wouldn't stop him at this point. He'd never taken time off in the middle of the day like this before and he'd never take advantage of his personal relationship with Jack in order to curry favors, but with everything that had been going on lately, he knew that Jack would let him have some privacy if he needed it badly enough to ask for it. And he had finally reached that point. He needed to be alone to think and sort himself out; the tension was really starting to unravel his nerve.

"I've put on the afternoon coffee, but if you don't mind, sir, I'm going to go home a bit early. I need to get a hotel in London and I need to make a few calls." As if it knew it was being talked about, his mobile rang.

Jack waved at the phone. "Get that and then we'll talk."

Ianto answered the phone and then paced to a corner of Jack's office where he could have something like privacy. A few minutes later he punched off the phone and fell onto the sofa. The annoyance that had taken precedence before was now replaced with concern and something Jack wanted to call fear.

"Jack… I think… I think I may need your help with something."

Jack set his pen down on the file he hadn't really been reading. "What's wrong?"

"Meaghan and Elizabeth have both been trying to get ahold of Andrew all day and his phone and mobile both go to voicemail. The other odd thing is that his Letter – like the one I got yesterday? – Andrew's came back to Meaghan today. Apparently he no longer lives at the address he's been at since before Canary Wharf." Ianto was fidgeting with his phone as he spoke. "He's supposed to check in with Jacklyn and she hasn't heard from him in over a week. She told Meaghan that she was starting to worry since he's never been late. Now we're all panicking because no one can get hold of him."

"'Check in', what do you mean?" Jack spun his chair to both face Ianto and put his back to the door. Ianto had used that term the night before, but in all that needed to be discussed, Jack hadn't had a chance to have him explain that one.

Ianto studied the floor between his shoes. "For the first few weeks after we were released, we were calling each other and seeing each other pretty constantly. Ethan and Andrew were helping me deal with Lisa and Jacklyn and Adam were together, but… as we all started to re-form our lives… we started drifting apart. And then when Adam… when he killed himself, we decided that we needed to keep track of each other, make sure that everyone is okay. So Jacklyn set up a system where every Sunday we'd call each other and check in. It's a circular rota. If Monday morning comes and we haven't heard from whomever's supposed to call us, we call the next person down the line and try and track back to what's happened to the person missing. It's how we learned about Karen. She was supposed to call Michael, but never did. The schedule back then was that I was supposed to call her, but couldn't reach her. Michael back-tracked to me to see if I had reached her and that was when we knew something was wrong. I had her mother's number for the weekends she went out to Kent to stay with her parents, so I called her mum…" He looked away and blew out a breath. "And I spent the next night writing letters. Her mum had found her dead in the bathtub."

Jack found himself itching to throw something. How had Ianto been going through all this right under his nose for two years without him ever noticing? He forced himself to get back to the crisis at hand. "And now it's Monday afternoon and no one has heard from Andrew," he summarized.

 

"Right. I think under normal circumstances we wouldn't panic for another day or two, but so close to Marc and the fact that his letter came back…The girls have been calling all day and they've called every number they have to contact him. He didn't go into work this morning. He didn't even call to say he'd be out. Not helping matters is that Andrew's brother called Jacklyn asking if she had heard from him."

"So we've got a missing person," Jack agreed. He leaned forward and waited until Ianto met his eyes. "You realize that at this point the best way to do this is to tell at least Tosh and Gwen. Gwen can go through normal police channels and Tosh can search CCTV and look for any kind of electronic fingerprints."

Ianto sighed. He hadn't wanted to burden everyone else with all this. It was bad enough that Jack seemed distracted by what he was going through. But he also knew that Torchwood's access to CCTV and other records would be their best chance of finding the missing man. "Might as well tell Owen too. We're trying to not actively annoy the crap out of each other any more."

Jack had to grin. "Beats having you shooting at each other."

Ianto gave Jack the smallest of smiles in return. "I rather suspect Owen would quite agree with you on that point."

&lt;{*}&gt;

Jack pulled everyone off their current tasks and herded them up to the conference room. They all came in and fell into a chair at the table, except Ianto. He sat in the spare chair in the corner and tried very hard to disappear into the glass wall.

Jack summed up all the important bits of the Torchwood Survivors Network (as he'd mentally dubbed them and their efforts to help each other where both Torchwood and the government had failed them) for the assembled group. It had looked like Tosh was doing everything in her power at one point to keep her seat when she clearly wanted to jump up and hug the stuffing out of Ianto. Jack wondered when they had gotten so close. He had the oddest sense that they may have bonded over the "death by Torchwood" fates of not only their co-worker Suzie, but also their respective girlfriends.

"I have a friend who works the beat in London. Probably not the same area, but I can have him put in a wellness call to the address you have. At least let us know if anyone's still living there?" Gwen was looking back and forth, not sure if she should be addressing Jack or Ianto at that point.

"Go," Jack told her and she bounded out of the room, already pulling her mobile out.

"Give me as much information as you have, Ianto, and I'll check to see if his credit cards have been used, if he's checked into a hotel, whatever." Tosh slid a note pad across the table to where Ianto could reach it.

Owen shrugged. "If we knew where to start I could look at CCTV footage, but do we even know when or where to look?"

Ianto was still scribbling down everything he could think of that would help Tosh. Name, birthdate, parents' names… whatever he'd learned over the five years of knowing Andrew. He didn't look up at Owen's question.

"Ianto?" Jack asked, apparently deciding that the question needed an answer.

"I don't know. I've given Tosh the name of the company he was working for – it's a computer hardware company that does huge mainframes – but he lived in a highly residential area just on the edge of London. I doubt there's much CCTV coverage out there." He handed the notepad back to Tosh.

Owen was clicking his pen in a really annoying rhythm. "Here's the thing," Owen said slowly. "He worked for Torchwood. He worked in the information systems. He has to have a pretty good idea how Torchwood tracks people. We can't be all that different from London in that – though I'm guessing they had whole teams just for that purpose."

"Your point?" Ianto asked exasperatedly. He'd held it together through so much for so long, but he really was quite at the end of his rope. First Marc's death and now Andrew's disappearance, not to mention finding himself talking to Jack about things he'd never spoken to anyone about, at least not to anyone who hadn't been there. It was more than he keep a grip on.

"If he doesn't want to be found…" Owen said slowly, clicking his pen again.

"So… what?" Ianto snapped. "Because he might actually be thinking clearly enough to elude Torchwood detection we shouldn't bother looking? Because historically speaking, when any one of us can't be found, thinking clearly is not bloody likely!"

He stormed out of the conference room without registering the confused and slightly abashed look on Owen's face.

 

Jack found him leaning on the railing in the stairwell to the lower archives, arms on the rail, head on his arms, breathing harshly.

"Let's go take a walk," Jack said, resting his hand on Ianto's shoulders.

"I need to calm down and then apologize to Owen. He had a point, I shouldn't have snapped on him for saying exactly what I was thinking." Ianto felt torn between wanting to shrug Jack's hand off in order to hold onto his anger – because the anger was starting to become infinitely more manageable than the fear that in less than four days they would have lost two members of their group – and wanting to turn to Jack and bury his face in Jack's shoulder until the world somehow sorted itself out for him.

"Owen will be here when we get back." Jack held out Ianto's wool overcoat and for the first time Ianto realized Jack was already in his greatcoat. "You need to blow off some steam, so let's go."

"I should stay and help Tosh –"

"Tosh is running everything she can with the information you gave her. Why don't we walk and you can tell me what you know about this guy so we can try to figure out what might have happened." Jack held the coat out to him again.

Ianto finally nodded and let Jack help him on with it and then lead him up to the front door. He told the girls that they were going out to talk and that they both had their mobiles should anything come up.

They walked in silence for about fifteen minutes. Ianto finally realized that Jack was content to wait him out and he knew that they didn't have time to wait. Tosh and Gwen were doing their thing, now it was time for him to do what he could.

"Andrew was the only other member of the archiving team to survive. He was the computer systems designer. My job was to compile all the information that came in from the different divisions, to figure out how and what they'd want to access, both in an artifact database and from the artifacts themselves. Andrew's job was to build a computer that could do that quickly and efficiently. Three other people were on the programming end and the other two people on our team were actually former museum curators and librarians who helped us set up a physical archive to keep things safe and accessible. Andrew and I were actually pretty good friends until… well… Lisa."

Jack raised an eyebrow but stayed silent.

"Andrew started at Torchwood about seven months before I did. He met Lisa somewhere along the line and developed quite a crush on her. She didn't reciprocate."

"That's not your fault," Jack said.

"No, but I knew how he felt when I started seeing her. It pretty much happened by accident, but I couldn't pretend that I wasn't thrilled." Ianto hunched into his overcoat.

"How do you date someone by accident? I mean, really, if anyone was going to manage that one, you'd think it would have been me." Jack gave Ianto a silly grin.

"You bother with dating?" Ianto answered with the kind of smile Jack had wondered if he'd ever see again.

Jack laughed at first, but then realized that Ianto, of all people shouldn't be asking him that. Yet another thing he'd neglected without realizing it.

Ianto took a deep breath. "Torchwood London liked to have grand celebrations of various things. Holidays, big scientific breakthroughs, things like that. Apparently Andrew had been stalking her quite obnoxiously at one of them, so when she managed to give him the slip she grabbed me and did that 'pretend you're talking to me' thing. I told her that if I did that I wouldn't have to pretend because I would be talking to her. She thought that was funny. She laughed and then when … when she saw him coming up again…" Ianto's voice trailed off and he looked out over the bay.

"What'd she do?" Jack asked taking Ianto's arm and linking their elbows.

Ianto leaned against him as they continued. "She snogged me senseless."

Jack laughed. "Fantastic!"

"I certainly thought so," Ianto said with a smile. It was the first time Jack had ever seen him genuinely smile at the thought of Lisa. "So anyway, once he took the hint and buggered off, she spent the rest of the night apologizing to me. I kept trying to tell her that I had absolutely no objection to being kissed by a beautiful woman."

"Smart man," Jack laughed.

"Well, apparently she still felt badly, because the next day when I came in there was a crystal vase with a single red rose in it sitting on my desk with another apology." Ianto studied the cobblestones under their feet as they walked. "So I went to her office and said that if it would make her feel better, I'd take her out to dinner and then let her kiss me again, so that things will have been done in proper order."

"That's cute," Jack told him affectionately.

"Andrew didn't think so. He liked to imply that she was only dating me because she was trying to make him jealous." Ianto shrugged, dislodging his arm from Jack's. Jack slid his hand down and wove their fingers together, keeping them connected as they walked. "It made our working relationship a bit rough at times, but when it came down to it…" Ianto took a deep breath. "He was the one who was able to help me turn the conversion unit into a life support system. Lisa knew… When she was awake and lucid she told us what she needed, but he actually did the rewiring and the meshing of the medical tech and the conversion unit. When it came down to it, he put all the pettiness aside in order to keep her alive." He stopped and turned to face Jack. "I owe him Jack. I owe him more than I can repay. It's not his fault that we couldn't undo the conversion. Ethan kept the human part of her alive, Andrew the mechanical."

Jack wrapped his arms around Ianto, "And you kept her fighting, didn't you? Kept her from giving up or going insane?"

Ianto pulled abruptly away. "Lot of good it did me." He began walking again, his anger from before resurfacing.

Jack ran to catch up. "Hey, hey, hey." He grabbed Ianto's arm. "You did everything you could and then some. It's no one's fault that it wasn't enough. The Cybermen were the ones who hurt her and were responsible for her death." He had to hope that after all this time, after all the trust they'd worked so hard to build after Lisa's death, that Ianto wasn't still hating him for the fact that he'd been responsible for her ultimate destruction. For the end of his hope.

Ianto sighed; his shoulders slumped. "I know. I'm sorry." He scrubbed his face with his hands. "I'm not angry at you, I just…" He took another deep breath. "We need to find him, Jack. I owe him."

Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto's shoulder, kissing a cold cheek. "We'll do everything we can."


	4. Chapter 4

Gwen was talking on her headset when they made their way back to the Hub. "Any post left about? Something that would tell us when someone was last there?"

Ianto's eyebrows shot up. He barely noticed when Jack took his overcoat and went into his office with it.

"No, but you know where to find me if anything comes up. I'd appreciate if you'd check those hospital John Does against the photo we sent. Right. Right. Thanks Robert."

Before she could reach up to click off the call, Ianto was in her face. "Your friend found something?"

Gwen put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Well, I was wrong – he was on that beat. He went to the house and checked around. He said it looked like whoever had been there left knowing that they wouldn't be back for a while. The fridge was cleaned out and a light and the radio were left on so someone would think there was someone home. There was no sign of anyone and there was about five days worth of post piled up by the door."

"A cat," Ianto said suddenly. "He had a cat. Horrid black and white thing that hated me."

"Robert didn't mention it or say anything about any bowls being left out. But I can ring him back and ask him to ask about it when he canvases the neighbors." Gwen gave him a sympathetic look. "There were no signs of foul-play, and nothing seemed obviously missing from the house. Robert said all the photos were still on the wall, the computer was on the desk. Nothing looked too amiss."

Ianto nodded and headed over to see what Tosh was doing. He turned back suddenly. "Doctor," he said suddenly. "He named the cat Doctor. Kind of a Torchwood London joke."

Jack had just come out in time to hear the last bit. "He named the cat 'Doctor'?"

"Andrew had a bizarre sense of humor," Ianto said quietly.

Jack didn't comment on the fact that Ianto was already speaking of him in the past tense.

Tosh hadn't come up with anything significant. His bank accounts hadn't shown any unusual activity, nor had his credit cards. There had been no new accounts and no police or hospital reports showing his name. Not that she was even close to giving up. "You have to understand how many Andrew Wrights there are in the U.K.," she explained. "With the other information you've given me I've been able to narrow some of it down, but I've actually given Owen some of the name matches that needed more research, but most of them have come up to someone different. We somehow found a four year old at one point."

Ianto nodded. "Thank you. I know you have a thousand other things you need to be doing."

Tosh shrugged. "The latest rift belch can wait. This is far more important," she said nodding and turning back to her terminal.

Having been out of the Hub left him feeling out of the loop. Everyone seemed to be doing everything that could be done. It was too early to start the nagging round of phone calls he wanted to make asking if Meaghan or Jacklyn or Elizabeth had heard anything. He caught Jack's eye. "Do you have a second, Jack?"

Jack nodded towards his office. "Sure."

They both sat on the sofa. "You okay?" Jack asked hoping for an honest answer.

Ianto shrugged. Jack decided that was honest enough.

"About tomorrow," Ianto started. Jack cocked his head and waited for him to continue. "If you still wanted to go to London…"

"The service is at eleven?" Jack asked.

Ianto nodded. "I can come by here and pick you up at half seven, we're likely to hit some traffic on the M4 in the morning."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "You could stay here tonight. Or I could come out and stay with you."

"I appreciate it, but I suspect – no, I know – I'm going to be horrible company tonight." Ianto hunched in over himself.

"So we can not-sleep together," Jack suggested.

Ianto smiled at him tightly. "Well, if you put it like that. I want to give Tosh and Gwen a few more hours before I call it a night, but when they go home… if you want to come back to my flat tonight…"

"Sounds like a plan," Jack said leaning over to place a chaste kiss on Ianto's lips.

&lt;{*}&gt;

Ianto was right. He'd gotten about half a night's sleep that night. The other half had been spent talking to all the people he'd be seeing the next day, trying to fill them in on what Gwen and Tosh had – or more accurately hadn't found – in six hours of searching for Andrew Wright. At half six Jack had gotten up and taken a shower. While Ianto cleaned up Jack made coffee and toast and then called the office, where as he'd predicted, Tosh was already in and working on the search again.

"I've called Tosh. Still nothing," he greeted Ianto as he came into the kitchen. He wrapped his arms around him, hugging him tight. "We'll call again from the road."

Ianto rested his head on Jack's shoulder and dropped a soft kiss behind Jack's ear. "Thank you. I know that at this point Andrew's a 'civilian' and at best this should be turned over the local constabulary. I appreciate you making Torchwood's resources available for this."

Jack drew soft circles on the small of Ianto's back through his shirt. "The more you tell me about this whole mess, the more I realize that I've let this go for far too long. After everything that happened with Lisa, I should have asked more questions. I have all the records and personnel files from London, yet it never occurred to me to check into what had happened to the survivors of the Cybermen attack." Jack took a deep breath. "After the Tower came down I took over Torchwood. If I'd done it right, I would have taken on more than just a name and an office in Cardiff."

Looking like nothing more than a whipped puppy, Ianto whispered, "You took me in when I asked you to."

Jack sighed. "But you shouldn't have had to ask. I was still rebuilding Torchwood Three. I should have seen how many of you wanted to come back. I should have told MacAllister up in Glasgow to see if any of you wanted to go up there."

Ianto pulled away slowly, moving to the coffee machine and making himself busy with the cream and sugar. "So why didn't you?" he asked casually. "I'm not judging, I'm not pissed, I'm just curious."

Jack collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs. "I know the Doctor," Jack said simply. He could see the tension that sprang up, drawing Ianto's shoulderblades together. "Let's save that talk for another time, but the short version is, I know the Doctor and I know what the original Torchwood Charter said. I wanted to start from scratch. Charter and all."

Ianto just nodded sitting down with his coffee. "So why did you take me?"

Jack pushed the plate of toast towards Ianto as a hint. "For one, because I did recognize that if you still wanted to work for Torchwood badly enough that you came from London to Cardiff, that it would be a little stupid for me to turn you away. And because I was starting to worry that maybe I'd bitten off a little more than I could chew and having someone with some experience on my team certainly wouldn't be a bad thing."

Ianto seemed to take that in as he sipped his coffee and ignored the toast.

As the silence threatened to turn ugly Jack glanced at his watch. "It's almost half-seven. We should probably hit the road."

&lt;{*}&gt;

There were at least fifty people gathered at the cemetery when Ianto pulled up. A heavy-set girl with a wild mane of red ringlets ran up and hugged Ianto fiercely as soon as she saw him. "Meaghan," Ianto said as he hugged her back. "How are you holding up?"

Jack shook his head imperceptibly. Ever Ianto, making sure someone else and their feelings were the center of attention before he and his own could be.

"This is becoming far too… routine," Meaghan said, her face still buried in Ianto's shoulder. "I got a call from Marc's flatmate and all I could think of was, "I wonder if that same undertaker who did Karen has an opening. So many, so fast."

"You should have called me, I could have taken care of it," Ianto said, the two of them still clinging to each other.

"You had just dealt with Lisa and –"

"That was almost a year ago," Ianto said softly, stepping back to look Meaghan in the eye. "And that whole thing was a very different situation." He shot a covert glance at Jack who was studiously watching the flowers on a nearby grave in the pretense of giving Ianto a little privacy. "I can help. You should call. It's not fair to you that we've all started to expect you to handle everything."

Meaghan sighed and shoved her hair out of her face. "Well, on the phone you said that you'd be ready for him to be interred in Cardiff. If you want to help… "

"Jack and I will make arrangements. Have you said anything to the family – they think –"

"His will says he wants to be cremated. They won't know whose ashes they have. But he also said he wanted a headstone and an outside service. I think that's more for his mum than anything. He was telling me last month –" Meaghan stopped and put a hand over her face. "Christ, I should have seen… he was talking about – I should have –"

Ianto tugged her back in, hugging her again. "I spoke to him less than two weeks ago. He sounded fine. I don't think we could have seen this coming. We've seen so damn much of it that we all know what to look for now. And what to hide if we don't want to be talked down."

Meaghan let go of Ianto and stepped back. "God, I'm sorry, I didn't even introduce myself to your friend." She turned to Jack and held out a mittened hand. "So you're the infamous 'Jack' Ianto talks about so much. I'm Meaghan McCaulley."

Jack shook her hand, but was at a loss for words. Ianto had just started talking about the other survivors in the past week and he had no idea what anyone else would think of him being associated with Torchwood management. "Jack Harkness," Jack said smiling politely, leaving off his title and the confusion and questions it could bring.

Meaghan gave Jack a tight smile. "This is the first time Ianto's brought a partner… I mean, there was Lisa so…"

Jack nodded. "I've lost more than a few people, no one should have to attend a funeral alone."

At the sound of people milling about Meaghan looked over her shoulder. "I think the priest is about to start."

They made their way over to where the casket was set up on a pedestal and chairs had been arranged for the mourners. Jack stood at the back with Ianto, Ianto's hand in his, both in the pocket of Jack's greatcoat.

When the service was over, Ianto excused himself from Jack. Jack gave him a hug and a kiss on the head and said he'd wait by the car. Then he watched as Ianto joined a group of seven other very somber looking people all close to his age. Jack realized that he was seeing all that was left of Torchwood One, gathered at yet another grave.

When Ianto joined him again, Jack wrapped an arm around his waist. "I couldn't help but notice that there were only eight of you at the graveside."

"We're still trying to track down Andrew and it's sort of understood that Becca wouldn't be attending," Ianto said, leaning in to Jack, shivering against the wind.

Jack held out a hand, "Give me the key," he whispered as he steered Ianto over to the passenger's side.

Ianto handed it over without complaint and let Jack open the door for him.

Once they were both settled and seatbelted, Jack started the car and clicked off the radio. "Is it okay if I ask where Becca is?" That was a name he hadn't heard yet, in all of Ianto's talking over the last few days, he'd never mentioned a Becca or Rebecca.

"She's in hospital here in London," Ianto said staring out the side window at the traffic passing them.

"We could stop and visit if you want," Jack suggested. "Get some flowers or something?"

Ianto shook his head slowly. "I appreciate the thought but…" He paused considering how to explain before giving up and just saying, "She's in Bethlem Royal Hospital, Jack."

Jack's jaw shut with a click. That particular kind of hospital had never occurred to him. "Oh. Sorry."

"It's alright," Ianto said without turning to look at him. "I went to visit her a few times, but she doesn't really remember me. We didn't know each other before Canary Wharf. Eight hundred people in an organization; you don't know everyone. Anyway, she apparently took to setting fire to her house. Over and over again. Her doctors figure she's still trying to die in the Tower. And now she's just kind of… disassociated. She remembers the battle and everything before. Sometimes she seems to remember quarantine, but that's as far as she gets on a good day. Meaghan keeps up on her and lets us know how she's doing, but mostly her sister and her doctors are the only ones to see her. She doesn't like company."

Jack sighed and reached over to squeeze Ianto's hand.

"It's odd," Ianto said after a long quiet pause as Jack fought his way through London traffic in an effort to get them back to their hotel. "Sometimes I wonder what's wrong with me that I'm still alive and functional."

Jack shifted his hand to weave his fingers through Ianto's, wanting to pull to the side and give Ianto a huge hug, but having no way out of the gridlock. "There's nothing wrong with being strong, Ianto. Nothing at all."

They were silent the rest of the way back. Jack parked Ianto's car in the underground car park and led them to the desk where he checked them in while Ianto wandered aimlessly around the lobby.

When Jack offered him a keycard, he pocketed it and sighed. "Look, Jack, would you mind taking my bag up? I'm going to go for a walk." He was restless and nervous and he wasn't sure why.

"Want me to go with?" Jack asked. He was pretty sure he knew the answer but he could hope he was wrong.

Ianto shook his head. "No thanks, I just need to clear my head."

Jack gave him a kiss and took his bag. I'll be here when you get back."

Ianto squeezed his hand. "I won't be too long."


	5. Chapter 5

Jack really figured Ianto would be back before dinnertime. He was certain he'd be back before dark. It wasn't dangerously cold, but a five-hour walk in London in March was a bit odd. He understood that Ianto was asking for a little time alone and that calling his mobile and pestering him wasn't going to ingratiate him to the man, but Jack was starting to worry.

He pulled out his own mobile and hit the speed dial. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Ianto's bag rang from the small dresser across the room. "Dammit, Ianto," he mumbled. It got him off the hook for being a nagging boyfriend, but it didn't stop him from worrying.

An hour later he picked up his phone again. "Tosh? Remember that emergency plan we were sure we wouldn't need?"

&lt;{*}&gt;

In hindsight, Jack figured he really should have figured this one out without resorting to calling Tosh. Ianto had lived in London long enough to have all the bus routes figured out, so the fact that he'd gotten across the city wasn't surprising. Jack drove. He wasn't sure that Ianto would really want to fight with the insane number of transfers a trip like this must have entailed in order to get back to the hotel.

There was a long, low cement wall along the actual wharf. Across a small grass parkway there were several new office buildings and what Jack supposed was a manufacturing plant of some kind. Ianto was sitting on the wall staring at the buildings, not the water.

Jack approached from an angle where Ianto would see him coming. "Hey," he said quietly as he reached his side.

Ianto looked up, startled nonetheless. He looked around. "How did you know where I was?"

Jack gave him a guilty smile, "Promise not to hit me?"

"Hit you?" Ianto asked, unconsciously leaning away from Jack, having no idea what would have prompted that remark.

Jack pulled him back in and for a second Ianto thought Jack was going to kiss him, but instead Jack reached under the collar of his coat and suit jacket and fumbled with his shirt. When he pulled his hand back there was a small green and black dot on his finger.

Suddenly Ianto understood why Jack feared getting pounded. "You had me tracked?"

Jack stuck the dot to his wristband so it wouldn't be lost. "Your friend is still missing and no one has ruled out foul play. Forgive me for being paranoid enough to make sure that you didn't disappear too." There was enough of an edge in his voice to let Ianto know he wasn't the least bit sorry for what he'd done.

Ianto made a face, but conceded the point. Jack's voice was still a bit sharper than he'd wanted it to be when he said, "You've been gone almost seven hours. Do have any clue what time it is?"

Ianto made a great show of looking at his watch. There was no way he had been gone that long. Jack was given to fits of hyperbole when he was upset. He'd just set him straight and – "Oh." No, no hyperbole this time. He really had been gone that long. It was nearing eleven now. Once the sun had gone down he'd had no subjective way of marking the time and just couldn't be arsed to check his watch. "Sorry."

Jack hopped up onto the wall next to him. "It's okay. But I tried calling a while back – scared the crap out of myself when your overnight bag rang back at me. Then I started worrying and… well…"

"I put my phone in the bag for the funeral. I didn't want it going off and I didn't want to be checking for messages if I just turned it off and left it in my pocket. I forgot to get it back out." Ianto leaned over and put his head on Jack's shoulder.

Jack reached over and put Ianto's phone in his inside coat pocket where it belonged. Ianto straightened his jacket and tugged his overcoat closer around himself.

They sat quietly for a long time, staring as the remaining lights in the office buildings flicked off one by one, late workers and cleaning staff completing their tasks and finally heading home.

"It's been roughly two and a half years. Not that long really. But in that time UNIT has completely removed any traces of Torchwood Tower, the conversion units and anything else alien from this site. Any remaining, salvageable alien artifacts were shipped off to us or Glasgow. Anything more benign was just plain destroyed. In that time they've put up office buildings for… I don't know toilet tissue manufacturing firms or something and no one knows what happened here. I don't know why I expected a monument or a plaque or something. I walked around for three hours looking for something."

Jack wrapped his arm around Ianto's waist, realizing that in two and half years, Ianto had never come back to this spot. Jack knew that both Torchwood business as well as personal business had Ianto back to London every other month or so, but it was very clear to Jack now that Ianto'd never come here. "You know why there couldn't be." He had nothing else to offer.

Ianto just nodded against his shoulder.

Jack turned his head to place a soft kiss on Ianto's ear and was startled at how cold his skin was. "You're freezing." He hadn't meant to say anything. He'd planned to sit out there with Ianto until he'd gotten whatever he needed out of being back at the site of the Tower.

Ianto's hand came up to his ear as if to see if Jack was right. Like he couldn't tell if his ears were cold. "I hadn't noticed," he said quietly as he felt the cold skin with only slightly warmer fingers.

"There's a 24/7 shop on the corner a few blocks back. I could go get you a cup of tea or something," Jack offered.

The corners of Ianto's mouth turned down sharply as he glared at the office buildings. "We can stop on the way back to the hotel if you want. There's no reason for me to stay here."

Jack read the wealth of meaning in that statement. "Come on. The car is about two blocks down."

Jack used just a bit of guilt to get Ianto to agree to stop for a late dinner on the way back. But even after burgers and chips – most of which Ianto shredded instead of eating – and the herbal tea Jack had insisted on, Ianto was still shivering in the car on the way back to the hotel.

When they got upstairs, Jack cranked on the shower and waited until steam billowed out. He helped Ianto undress and deposited him into the steam and hot water with a kiss and told him he'd be in waiting for him in bed. It had been a fucking long day.

&lt;{*}&gt;

Ianto was the first to suggest sex when Jack was having a bad day. He knew it was Jack's way of reconnecting after he'd suffered any kind of loss. It had never been his way before, but that night Ianto began to understand why Jack sought out the solace of another body when he was grieving. It wasn't necessarily about forgetting the loss; it was about remembering what you still had. There's always something left to lose, Jack had told him that night. The night he'd lost Lisa and truly believed that he'd be better off dead than alone. Even though Ianto had punched him, even though Jack had held a gun to Ianto's own head and ordered him to execute the one person who gave him purpose… even through all of what had happened, Jack had been telling him, even then that he wasn't alone. That once Lisa was gone, he'd still have people who loved him.

Jack had crawled into the hotel bed in his boxers and t-shirt. Ianto came out of the bathroom naked and crawled between the sheets and snuggled up to Jack. "This is the first time I can think of that you've gone to bed in your clothes."

"And one of the first times I can think of that you haven't." Jack pulled him in and gently kissed his neck. "Usually I get the fun of peeling you out of them."

Jack mentally flipped karma the bird. He'd not wanted Ianto to think he expected him to repay his kindness with sex, he could be funny about that, rarely accepting Jack's kindness as simply that. So he'd gone to bed in his underwear, assuming that Ianto would just want to go to sleep and put the day behind them. Now he had worry that Ianto would read that as a rejection of him. He carded his fingers through Ianto's hair. "Tell me what you want tonight," he whispered kissing Ianto's shoulder tenderly.

"Remind me that not everyone leaves me," Ianto said, pulling Jack over on top of him. "And that if they have to for some reason, they'll come back."

Jack shucked off his t-shirt and shorts and lay over Ianto's body. "I'll always come back for you," Jack promised before proceeding to show Ianto exactly how much he wasn't alone.

&lt;{*}&gt;

The next morning they'd eaten breakfast in the hotel café. Ianto still looked tired and drawn, but there was a small amount of peace in his face that hadn't been there the day before. After scones and fruit and coffee – which Ianto actually ate this time, much to Jack's relief - Jack drove them back to Cardiff. When they pulled Ianto's car into its spot, Ianto reached over and took Jack's hand looking suddenly nervous. "Can you come in for a minute?"

Jack nodded, noting that the peace Ianto had found that morning was completely gone. "Of course. You don't look so good. You okay?"

Ianto shook himself and took a deep breath. "I will be," he answered since Jack seemed to be less than impressed when he said that he was.

Ianto led them into the flat and gestured Jack to the sofa. "Do you want some coffee or something?" he asked as he hung his windbreaker in the closet and took Jack's coat for him.

Jack took his hands once the coats were put away. "I want you to tell me what's suddenly made you so nervous."

Ianto nodded across the room to the sofa again. "Have a seat. I'll be right back."

Jack sat on the sofa as directed, having no idea what was going on. He looked around Ianto's immaculately clean flat. Unsurprising really, given Ianto's nature and the fact that he spent a great deal of his time – even his nights – at the Hub. He jumped when he felt his hand grabbed and something small and cold placed in it. "Damn, Ianto! I didn't even hear you come back in."

Ianto was sitting on the sofa next to him looking sheepish. "I know. Sorry."

Jack looked down at his hand and found an old skeleton key on a chain. He suddenly understood why Ianto had snuck up on him so completely. "Where the hell did you get this?"

"It was one of the things I was archiving when everything went to hell in London. It came in through the rift." There was a slight pause but before Jack could think of anything to say, Ianto continued with, "Well, that's most of the truth. They … Lisa's division – bio/medical research - they asked me to help with the work on it. See… it doesn't work on me." Ianto had pulled his socked feet up onto the couch and was scrunched into the corner. "They wanted to know why."

"A perception filter doesn't work on anyone who knows it's there or anyone with psychic abilities," Jack said turning the key over in his hand. "So you either found it and had control over it so you knew where it was or…"

Ianto raised an eyebrow before resting his chin on his knees looking for all the world like a puppy who expected to be kicked. "They kept trying to hide it from me, tried to sneak up on me using it. It never worked. After a while they figured out that anyone with a reasonably high psychic level couldn't be fooled by it." Ianto shrugged. "That's when Lisa told me that I had one of the highest scores in all of Torchwood. It's not much use around most people. Lisa supposed it made me a little more empathetic than most. But unless there was some kind of alien tech that was activated by – or in this case deactivated by – psychic abilities I'm no different than anyone else."

Jack pulled Ianto's feet into his lap and put the key around his own neck. He began absently rubbing Ianto's ankles. "Are you really that worried that I'll freak out? I mean, seriously, I know what a perception filter and how it works. The fact that you have enough psychic ability to see through it really won't shock me. Why do you think I'd – oh." Jack cut himself off. "I'm not pissed that you have it." He sighed and slid the key back and forth on the chain. "Not today. I'd like to know why you're giving it to me now instead of just archiving it and saying it had just washed in through the rift or that it was in the boxes from London or something."

"I can't deal with the secrets any more, Jack. If you're angry so be it, but there has been so much damn secrecy and pain and deception… I can't do it any more." Ianto pulled his feet back to hide behind his knees again. "Didn't you ever wonder how no one knew Lisa was down there? We were all in and out of those cellars. Moving bodies around and storing the larger artifacts..."

"You put the perception filter on her?" Jack asked quietly as he removed the perception filter and dropped it into his shirt pocket.

Ianto nodded slowly. "I'd taken it off her that night because I needed Dr. Tanizaki to see her."

Jack made a face, considering. "How'd you get back into the Torchwood London archives to get it when everything started going to hell?"

Ianto's face went through a contortion as he went from a fond smile to a grimace that made him look like he'd accidentally chewed an aspirin. "It was something of a game with the group of people I worked with. Something like belling a cat. They kept trying to sneak up on me with it and get it around my neck. So it wasn't uncommon for someone in the archive division to walk around with it on." He swallowed thickly before continuing. "Albert was killed by the first wave of Cybermen that came through the halls. I found his body as I was trying to get out." He had to stop and breathe. "I don't know why it didn't work for him. Maybe it did and he was just hit by a stray bolt." He hugged his knees tighter rocking himself. "God, Jack, I felt like I was robbing the dead." He scrubbed his face with his hands.

"But it's how you got out. Albert was gone and you knew that there was nothing you could do for him. So you saved who you could. Yourself." Jack took the perception filter out of his pocket and fingered the chain.

"And Lisa," Ianto added. "Once I found where they had her I put it on her until it was over. People were willing to help me. They would have killed her on sight. Once things calmed down I was able to get help for her and explain that she wasn't fully converted. I just kept it after that."

"I'm going to lock it in the safe. I expect it to stay there," Jack said as sternly as he could manage. Part of him was more and more amazed by Ianto's ingenuity at every turn. It was kind of hard to be mad at the man who'd outsmarted him very, very neatly. "Anything else I should know about?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

Ianto shook his head.

"Good, then come here," he got Ianto to flip around and put his head in his lap. Jack then grabbed the remote and flipped on the television. "We're not expected back until after lunch. I say we take advantage of that fact and do nothing for a few hours. Sleep if you want." He flipped through until he found an old Lucille Ball movie on cable. They watched in silence, Jack running his fingers through Ianto's hair, Ianto wondering if he'd ever feel normal again.

&lt;{*}&gt;

When the movie ended Jack broached the subject of lunch, but before any plans could be made, his mobile rang.

"This better be important," he said with fake cheer.

Ianto sat up and leaned in to hear Tosh say, "Yes, it is. I think we have a lead on Andrew Wright. Are you back in town?"

Jack stood up and pulled Ianto to his feet. "We'll be there in fifteen minutes."

Ianto drove them back to the Hub and fumbled with the key to the tourism office. Jack put a hand on his shoulder to steady him as they made their way to the lift and down to where Owen, Gwen and Tosh were gathered around a monitor.

"What? What have you got?" Ianto asked before they'd even made it down the steps.

"It's not much but, we have a recent house lease signed in Bristol by a Doctor Grant Whewrid," Tosh explained. "At first we thought it was an identity theft case because none of the data matched any other records, but it had your friend Andrew's National Insurance number. But then Owen noticed something else."

"It's an anagram," Owen interjected before someone could steal his thunder. It's his cat's name and then an anagram of 'Andrew Wright'."

Ianto made a face and turned sharply away. "I can't believe I forgot that. He was always doing stupid shit like that. All of his email addresses were anagrams of his name. Look for…" he snapped his finger as he tried to think of the last anagram email address he'd known Andrew to use. "Ward Hintgrew. That was the last one he used in Torchwood London."

Tosh shook her head. "No need. That was whom he listed as his reference on the lease. The weird thing is," Tosh continued, "is that the lease was put into the system, but there was no installation of a phone or power or any other utilities for anyone by that name."

"So, what?" Jack asked, "He closed out his old place, and got this one, but isn't actually living there?" He watched as Ianto became visibly agitated.

"The place is in Bristol? That's not that far." Ianto fumbled in his jacket pocket for his car keys. "What's the address, Tosh?"

Jack covered Ianto's hand with his, "Hang on. We'll all go. I'm still not sure that this isn't some kind of set up. Call me paranoid, but if he's gone back to old tricks to hide his identity he's either trying to not be found or he wants you to be the one to find him."

"Splendid," Ianto groaned. For lack of any other immediate action he pulled out his mobile.

"Who are you calling?" Owen asked.

"I know it's useless," Ianto said punching through menus on his phone, "But I'm trying Andrew's phone one more time. One last chance for him to explain all this weird shit before I pound him into next week when I do find him."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the uncharacteristic comment, and Owen and Gwen both snickered behind their hands.

After a few seconds he clicked off the mobile. "Nothing. Can we go now?"

Tosh grabbed a small stack of papers off the printer and handed them to Jack. "Here's a map and a copy of the lease info."

"Everyone grab your jacket and hit the weapons store. We're not going to wander into this blindly." Jack went into his office and grabbed his own weapon from the desk drawer. He debated the wisdom of letting Ianto carry a gun in his current frame of mind, but he really didn't want to have an argument with him. Even more, he didn't want to send the signal that he didn't trust him.

Once everyone seemed prepared, Jack led them out to the SUV.


	6. Chapter 6

The house was on the edge of town, in an area with lots of woods and fields and several hundred meters between houses. Jack told Gwen and Owen to do a cursory check of the house while he, Ianto and Tosh did a perimeter check. If there was a dead body lying in the bathtub or hanging off the banister, he didn't want Ianto stumbling across it

Jack used his wristband to override the security system of the modest two-floor, brick and stone house and then used the alien lock-pick on the deadbolt and handle. Owen and Gwen went in, guns drawn, calling for Andrew or any other occupant.

Jack nodded to the side and led his group around the side of the house, checking the cellar door and a back sliding-glass door. The sliding door opened when Jack tested it. "Gwen? Owen?" Jack hollered through the door. Gwen appeared a few seconds later, gun preceding her into the large family room.

"What have you found?" she asked, lowering her gun as she cleared the room.

"Nothing, just that this door was open," Jack told her.

Owen joined them and added, "If someone went out this way last, they wouldn't be able to lock it from the outside. There's no one in this house and very few personal belongings. Toothbrush in the bathroom, a box of cereal in the kitchen, like that."

"Anything with any kind of identification to it? I'm sure it's too much to hope there's a wallet sitting on the bedside table, but some post or something?" Tosh asked.

Ianto seemed strangely silent, studying the woods behind the house. Without saying anything he broke from the group and headed towards the gate in the corner of the split rail fence that separated the house's garden from the forest behind.

Jack made a face but let Ianto move off alone. "I guess we better go check the woods. Stay in someone else's line of sight," he cautioned as he moved to follow Ianto."

Ianto looked sick and pale as he moved with purpose through the layers of decomposing leaves from the previous fall. "Ianto?" Jack trotted to catch up with him. "Ianto? You see something?"

He stopped and shook his head, eyes closed. "I… I just know…"

Jack stepped in front of him and rested a hand on Ianto's chest. "Tell me where to check."

Ianto shook his head. "He sent me on this wild goose chase. He wanted me to find him. He was here. I know he was. And now he's gone and there's nothing left for it but to find his body." Ianto began scrubbing his fingers through his hair. "I think he knew we were coming, Jack. I think he waited until he knew he'd be found."

It was on the tip of Jack's tongue to ask how Ianto knew all that, but as he crossed his arms over his chest he felt the skeleton key still in his pocket. The perception filter that didn't work on Ianto because he had such a high psychic rating. "Are you sure it's too late?"

Ianto scuffed the leaves under his feet. "Ever since I was a kid, I've always noticed that there's a … hole around a dead body. Like something's missing from the air. That's the best explanation I've ever been able to come up with, but it's not… I know it doesn't make sense."

"It makes sense," Jack said softly, realizing they were back to the programming that had happened in the hospital. Anything Ianto brought up that couldn't be explained in cold, rational terms, he was told it didn't make sense so that he wouldn't say it again.

"I've felt it too. It's like everything that's living is connected, but where there's a body, there's a disruption to the circuit. Like if there's light in a whole room, but one shadowy corner that shouldn't be dark, but is." Jack moved in and rubbed a hand up and down Ianto's back. He took a deep breath. "In my time psychic ability was well documented. Mine is… pretty lousy," Jack said with a slight grin. "I can get a basic sense of when someone's lying to me or when someone's highly emotional, but usually by the point I can feel it, it's written all over their face. But I've been places where there have been a lot of dead bodies. And in cases like that, I've felt what you've felt. A cold spot in an otherwise warm place. Unless I'm basically standing right over it, I don't feel it from just one body."

Ianto turned his head away. "You're lucky. Sometimes…" He swallowed and changed his approach. "By the time they got me away from Canary Wharf I was sure I was going to fall into that hole and never be able to crawl back out. So many damn bodies."

Jack reached up to wipe away the tear that tracked slowly down Ianto's cheek. "And there's another one here."

"Tell me where to start looking," Jack said softly. "You found him, but you don't need to see him. If it's messy… Let me do this."

Ianto squeezed his eyes shut, his need to take care of his first team warring with the overwhelming desire to let Jack handle the dirty work this time.

Suddenly Jack's hand shot up to his headset. "Owen?" He reached out to take Ianto's hand. "Understood, can you…? Right. Thanks."

Ianto looked up, eyes red and wet. "Owen found him?" He looked up the hill to where Gwen was coming back towards them and Owen was pulling a plastic sheet out of his medkit, Ianto supposed, to cover Andrew's face.

Gwen had her sympathetic face on when she came to the pair of them. "Ianto, I'm sorry."

Ianto just nodded and slid down the nearest tree, where he wrapped his arms around his knees and hid his face, too drained to even cry.

Gwen looked at Jack, not sure what to do or say.

"He already knew," Jack said simply.

&lt;{*}&gt;

Owen and Gwen took care of getting the body picked up by the local authorities and explained that the body would be transferred to Torchwood within the next day.

Jack took Ianto inside the house to get him up out of the wet, muddy, leaves. Once up and moving, Ianto became restless. He wandered the house looking for any signs of real habitation. A note. Something that would tell him what had happened. Eventually he'd come back down the stairs and just aimlessly paced the living room while Jack sat in the chair in the corner and watched him warily.

"No note, hardly any clothes upstairs, no books or any kind of personal effects… No computer, which is odd as hell for Andrew. I can't figure out what happened." He leaned his arm on the fireplace mantle and rested his head on it.

Jack moved behind him and squeezed his shoulders. "I think we have a pretty good idea."

Ianto turned his head to look at Jack, his mouth open to say something, but he shut it again as he took in the 'model home' trinkets on the mantle. The crystal rose vase with a single red rose in it caught his eye. It was familiar. The rose was real, not the dried or silk sort he'd thought at first. The edges of the petals were drying and curling, like it had been there a few days without water. The crystal seemed milky in the dim evening light. He straightened up, pulled away from Jack and examined it.

He took out the rose and examined the dry stem before tossing the flower onto the mantle. He looked into the vase, wondering why there was no water. What he saw made him sigh and steel himself. Jack watched over his shoulder as Ianto slowly pulled out the tightly rolled paper from the vase.

"Want me to read it first?" Jack asked softly as he hooked his chin over Ianto's shoulder and rested his hands on Ianto's waist.

Ianto shook his head and moved away, crossing the room to the window where he could use the fading light to read the message.

He scoffed at the opening line. "Damn Jones, you were always good. Nothing ever got past you. So if you've found this, at least I'll go knowing one of us hasn't lost our edge."

He read it through and then handed it over to Jack. It was mostly a standard Torchwood suicide note – and it chilled him to think that there was such a thing – the reassurance that there was nothing anyone could do, directions as to what to do with his things, a few private notes that Ianto would copy over into the Letters.

Jack folded the note up and tucked it into his coat pocket. He moved to embrace Ianto, but Ianto stepped away. "Please don't, Jack. Not right now."

Jack raised an eyebrow, but didn't move towards him again. It wasn't like Ianto to decline comfort. "How're you feeling, Ianto?" Jack asked cautiously.

Ianto leaned against the window, watching the few birds hopping in the trees. "Right now I'm feeling nothing. I'm completely fucking numb. And I think it's for the best. I'm pretty damn terrified of what'll happen when it sets in that we've had two suicides inside of a week."

Jack itched to reach out and comfort him even if Ianto didn't feel like he needed it.

"Actually, no," Ianto said still staring out the window. "The one thing I'm feeling is pissed. He had to go and fuck with me first. He couldn't just go and top himself; he had to set all this up to fuck with me because Lisa chose me over him. He had no fucking clue what he was spared. I'd have given anything to not be the one slowly losing her over a year and a half. To not have to be the one sneaking around trying to keep her alive, and as pain free as possible, and keep her a secret." He took a deep breath and raised an arm to keep his forehead off the cold glass as he leaned into it. "I loved her. I truly did. But he had no idea what kind of hell he was spared."

Jack jumped as the crystal vase in Ianto's other hand slipped to the tile floor and shattered.

A crystal vase and a red rose. Jack made the connection and raised his eyes to the ceiling, wishing desperately he could tell this Andrew Wright fellow to fuck off in person. It was bad enough that Ianto would have to arrange to get to another funeral so soon after Marc's, but, yeah, what Ianto'd said. Had the guy had to go and fuck with Ianto first?

Jack moved closer, sliding the crystal shards to one side with his boot. He put a hand on Ianto's back. "He was suicidal. That speaks for not being in his right mind. He may not have realized how cruel he was being," Jack tried.

"PTSD," Ianto snorted. "In quarantine we called it Post Torchwood Stress Disorder. Somehow 'trauma' just didn't seem to capture the whole thing well enough. Especially after ten weeks of their so-called counseling and then being dumped out like so much garbage."

"Sounds about right," Jack said, heartened that Ianto hadn't shaken off his hand. "But try to cut him a little slack if you can. Eventually. He wasn't in his right mind."

Ianto turned to lean his back on the window, to try and see Jack in the rapidly encroaching dark. "None of us are, are we?"

Jack pulled him in and kissed him on the forehead. "You tell me. Is there anything I need to worry about?" Jack held his eyes, challenging Ianto to lie to him, even a little.

"I don't know. Marc seemed perfectly fine up until he wrote a letter and sprinkled rat poison on his oatmeal. How do I know I won't wake up feeling like that's a good plan for the day?"

"Because I don't think you just wake up suicidal one day. It builds. Tell me the truth," Jack said with utter seriousness. "Do you think you'd be better off dead?"

There was a pause as Ianto seemed to take mental inventory. "No. I really don't. I just worry that that will change."

"With as much death as you've had to deal with in the last few years, I think that's healthy. As long as you worry that suicide will sound attractive, you can be assured that you're doing okay so far." Jack took his hand and squeezed it. He'd come to a conclusion, but he wasn't ready to talk to Ianto about it yet. He'd wait until the wheels were in motion.

Bright lights flashing along the driveway caused them both to lean and look out. Police were arriving and Gwen and Owen and Tosh were making their way around to explain and make arrangements. When Ianto started to head for the door, Jack grabbed his arm. "Just wait in here. They have this. If the police need to verify the suicide, they'll come in and we can show them the note and explain just enough to make them go away. It's being handled."

Ianto nodded and walked back into the sitting room proper and collapsed onto the sofa. He grabbed his satchel from the coffee table and pulled out a writing tablet and a pen. Before he could get busy with the Letters, Jack sat next to him, "Give me your phone." Ianto looked a question at him, but handed over his mobile before Jack could explain. "I'm going to call Meaghan. No point in letting her sit and worry any longer."

Ianto reached for the phone. "I should –"

Jack pulled the phone back and squeezed Ianto's hand before setting it back on his lap. "I'll do it. Remember, you don't have to deal with any of this crap alone any more. I'll tell her that you're writing the Letters and that you'll call later."

Ianto nodded, spinning his black fountain pen on his thumbnail. "Jack?"

Jack had been heading into the kitchen to call, but he stopped and looked back. "Amanda Lambert, she's the only one of us who went to Glasgow when MacAllister asked… could you call her too? She's in my directory. She and Andrew were together for a while. She should know."

Jack nodded before disappearing behind the saloon doors into the kitchen.

Ianto slouched into the sofa, ignoring the fact that it was extremely rude to put your feet on someone else's furniture, and put his shoes on the edge of the coffee table, propped the tablet on his legs and began to write. He was actually starting to hate this tradition. Who thought it was a good idea to have to write letters detailing someone's suicide over and over again, ten different times?


	7. Chapter 7

Jack had stayed at Ianto's with him that night once they'd gotten back to Cardiff. He'd insisted on keeping Ianto's phone and took the calls for him, explaining as often as needed about the game Andrew had played that ultimately led them to finding his body, bullet through the brain, lying in the woods. He answered as many questions as each caller had before handing the phone over so that, one at a time, most of the few remaining Torchwood One survivors could check to see that Ianto was coping okay.

Ianto had been like a squid that night, curling around Jack with arms and legs and tossing and turning all the same. Jack stayed awake to soothe him back to sleep each time the dreams roused him.

The next day Ianto insisted on going into work. Jack let him work out the transportation of the body back to Cardiff as well as making funeral arrangements from the closed tourist office. Jack had his own issues to tackle. After putting Tosh and Gwen on standby to alert him if Ianto was coming back down from his office, he'd gotten on the phone with the leader of the government oversight committee for Torchwood. There needed to be some changes.

&lt;{*}&gt;

It didn't take much to convince Ianto to stay at the Hub that night. Once everyone else had gone home, Jack had ordered in Thai food and they'd eaten down on Jack's bed with the radio playing softly behind them. Once the chicken satay and spring rolls had been dispatched with, Jack had cleaned up and they'd stretched out on the bed and talked until Ianto was yawning between every other word. Jack laughed and tapped him on the butt. "Go get ready for bed before you fall asleep like this." He used Ianto's tie to pull him in for a peanut-sauce-flavored kiss.

Ianto smiled and rolled off his side of the bed. Jack gave him a few minutes in the bathroom before wandering in beginning his own ablutions making it back to the bed in his boxers before Ianto got his suit hung up and joined him.

Jack sat cross-legged in the middle of the bed and when Ianto rejoined him he pulled him down and turned him to sit facing him, chest to chest, Ianto's legs wrapped around his back.

Ianto raised an eyebrow at all Jack's maneuvering.

Jack kissed him softly. "I have to go back to London next Thursday. I'm going to try and get out there early and come back as soon as I'm done; get it done in a day."

Ianto nodded. "Would you like me to drive you?"

"No. 'Fraid you can't make this trip with me. See… I'm going out there to talk about you." Jack gave him an apologetic smile.

Ianto glared at him. "Excuse me?"

"I talked to Smythe on oversight today. Told him that his committee and I did a big thing badly and we're still fucking it up. I basically informed him that Torchwood needed a psychiatrist on staff."

"Jack I don't need – "

"Shut up," Jack said softly, putting a finger over Ianto's mouth with one hand, the other hand going around behind Ianto's back to keep him from trying to get off his lap. "Just don't okay. This isn't about you. At least not completely about you. Eleven former Torchwood employees have committed suicide in two and a half years. You weren't realistically counseled in the first place. Something needs to be done."

"Ten, Jack, let's not make it worse than it is."

Jack looked up at him sadly. "I'm including Suzie." He felt Ianto stiffen under his hands, abashed that he'd not thought of her. "She needed to talk to someone so badly that she retconned someone every week for two years. That should have been a big enough clue for me, but…" He shrugged, having no excuse. "It wasn't. I don't want any more 'death by Torchwood' cases. This has gone too far. It's too late for Suzie and for ten other people. But it's not for you, or for the other nine of you or for Tosh, or Gwen or Owen. And I don't ever want either of us to have another week like this one. Not when it can be avoided. Or at least when some kind of intervention can be attempted."

Ianto looked down at Jack skeptically. "What makes you think this new person will be any more useful to us than the first one was? Obviously someone in oversight or something told her how to handle us."

"Because I'm going to hire him. Her. Whoever. Because most of your group still live in or near London, I'll probably look for someone to be based there. But he'll work for Torchwood Three. I've told oversight that I'm handling this myself precisely because someone in that committee screwed you all over in the first place. That's not going to happen again. We're going to find someone, orient them to Torchwood, give them the files on what happened at the Tower and only when I'm sure that they will do more good than harm will I let any of you near their office."

Ianto made a face. "You think I'm … that I'll… that I'm going to be next?"

"No," Jack said quickly. "Not at all. Not right now anyway. But I am worried that not all of the rest of you are handling it as well. And if things continue apace? Yeah, I'm going to worry about you a lot. At least here, now, if you need to talk to someone who 'gets it', you have me and the rest of the team. What do your friends do?"

"We talk to each other Jack. We've been surviving for two and half years like this -"

"But you're not!" Jack interjected sharply before calming himself. "You're not. You're all dying like this. You have to see that." Jack ran a hand soothingly up and down Ianto's arm. "I don't think you're crazy. I don't think any of the rest of them are either. I'm not saying that. I'm saying that any sane person is going to have issues with dealing with what happened at Canary Wharf, with being fucked over in the hospital and in the aftermath. Tell me you don't think some of the others could use some professional help."

Ianto let his head fall onto Jack's shoulder and Jack gathered him in close. "No one is saying you aren't doing the best you can. I just… even if it's just to have someone check you out and clear you. Think of it as a mental physical if you want. After a round with a Weevil, Owen has a look at you. It's just S.O.P; and I'm pretty sure that given a choice between Canary Wharf and a Weevil you'd take the Weevil any day."

Ianto began to soften against him and Jack began rubbing the rest of the tension out with the flat of his hand. "Having someone around on retainer can only be a good thing because odds are good we'll probably be exposed to something else more than just a little stressful before all is said and done. If that original timeline hadn't been disturbed, and Rhys had died, wouldn't it have been a good thing to have someone available for Gwen? This isn't just about you. But, yeah. I want you checked out too. Obviously right now you're depressed. That's reasonable. You lost two friends in a week and one of them decided to mess with your head first. You've dealt more with that day at Canary Wharf in the last week than I think you ever have in the past two and a half years. I would feel better knowing that you really are handling it and that I'm not going to be writing Letters any time soon. Give me that peace of mind, okay?" Jack wished he'd felt bad for using guilt to get Ianto to agree to this, but at that point he was willing to play just a little bit dirty to get what he needed. What they needed.

Ianto sighed as he wrapped around Jack like a squid again. "I think I'm afraid that he'll actually find something wrong with me."

"You work for me, you're sleeping with me and you put up with Owen's shit on a daily basis. Of course there's something wrong with you," Jack jibed.

Ianto laughed against Jack's shoulder. "I won't promise not to bitch every step of the way."

"I fully expect it." Jack hugged him tight, grateful for the capitulation.

&lt;{*}&gt;

"We should go out tonight," Jack announced from the doorway to his office. It had been four days since Jack and Ianto had gone to Portsmouth to put up a marker for Andrew - who now resided in a drawer next to Suzie - where he'd requested. It was two days after Jack's trip to Westminster to get a psychiatrist added to the Torchwood roster. Two days after Jack had, Ianto later found out, given them quite the tongue-lashing about how the whole thing had been handled in the first place.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to look at him to figure out where the non sequitur had come from. "Seriously, go to a pub or something."

Tosh shrugged, "I'm in. Nothing else going tonight anyway."

"I should get home," Gwen said slowly as if she didn't really want to, but didn't want to not. "Rhys is starting to get cross again."

"Tell him to meet us," Jack suggested. During the long drive back from London he'd decided that he needed to get to know Gwen's boyfriend better. If it looked like he could be trusted it would be time to bring him in on Torchwood's secret. It was never fair of him to tell Gwen to maintain both her relationship and their secrets. This was how Ianto had ended up going two and a half years without being able to deal with everything that had happened to him. He'd breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that he'd narrowly avoided sending Gwen to a similar fate.

Gwen smiled and raised an eyebrow. "Could do."

"Ianto? Want to go out tonight?" Jack gave him his sexiest smile.

Ianto blushed and studied the floor. "I suppose I could do with a drink or two." He couldn't meet Jack's eyes, but he had a sweet smile on his face. It might have been a 'group thing' as kids called it these days, but he knew when he was being asked on a date. He remembered teasing Jack about not bothering with actually dating and couldn't lose the smile at the thought that Jack was trying to change that just for him.

"Owen?" Jack asked, rounding up the group.

"You buying?" Owen asked with a cheeky smile.

"We'll put the tab on the Torchwood credit card and call it a team building exercise," Jack said as he disappeared back into his office.

"Damn sight better than your last 'team building exercise'," Owen hollered in after him and everyone laughed.

A few seconds later, Gwen was shouting through the Hub with her hand over the speaker of her mobile. "Rhys wants to know if we can go to a place called the Aqua Bar near the Millenium Stadium. He's going to the match with some of the boys this afternoon he says he can walk over and meet us there when it ends."

Everyone agreed and plans were made.

 

As they wound down for the evening Jack convinced Ianto to change into jeans and even agreed to do the same.

Tosh found herself staring at Ianto. He'd stayed in the same dark purple shirt and black vest he'd been wearing all day, but somehow the jeans made him go from good-looking to extremely hot. She wasn't in the habit of staring at attached men, but… damn. She had to look away when Jack grabbed him by the belt loops and pulled him in for a kiss that curled her toes. She could only imagine what it was doing for Ianto.

Jack took his own coat from the hook in his office and handed Ianto his wool overcoat. "Everyone else ready?" he called. Gwen was nowhere to be seen, but Jack knew she wouldn't have gone far. Her 'just a minute' from the ladies' made Jack laugh. He helped Tosh on with her coat and then put an arm around Ianto's waist. "We'll be in the SUV. Tell Gwen to get a move on," he told Tosh and Owen as he led Ianto to the invisible lift.

 

Rhys was leaning on the wrought iron fence in front of the club when they arrived. The club was busy without being claustrophobic. The music was current and danceable, but not so loud that people sitting at the tables to the left of the bar couldn't have a comfortable conversation. Jack glanced around and then elbowed Rhys. "Brilliant suggestion."

Rhys smiled. The last time he'd encountered Jack he'd been a right ass – not that he still didn't think he'd had a right – so it was good to know that the man wasn't holding that night against him. He pointed across to one of the few empty tables that would be large enough for their group. "Gwen, why don't you go grab that table. I'll bring drinks."

Owen gave Tosh a slight grin. "Go on, go girl talk. You want a pint?"

Tosh nodded and bounced off to catch up with Gwen.

Jack gave Ianto a playful shove. "What do you want?"

Ianto shrugged. "You know what I drink."

 

Gwen coughed discreetly behind her hand as Ianto joined the girls. He glared at her. "Do not read anything into this. Jack's just, still, being deferential as hell. Starting to make me a bit daft, truth be told."

"He's just worried. We all have been," Tosh said.

"I'm okay. It's been good to be able to deal with everything out front. To be able to talk when I need to."

Gwen reached over and covered his hand with hers. Ianto flipped his hand over and squeezed back in thanks. "We're all here for you. You know that, don't you?"

Ianto grinned and leaned over to place the briefest of kisses on her cheek. "Yes, Gwen, I know. You tell me every day."

"Oh see now," Rhys said setting the beers on the table. "I figured that since you came in with him," Rhys indicated Jack with his head, "That I didn't have to worry about you trying to horn in my girlfriend."

Ianto looked stunned. "Oh no, I wasn't –"

Jack took the seat next to him and kissed his cheek. "He's winding you up, Ianto."

"I am," Rhys admitted casually.

Ianto hung his head. "Sorry. I'm a bit off lately."

Rhys gave him a playful punch in the shoulder.

Owen switched the conversation over to the rugby match Rhys had been at after that. and everyone fell to their drinks and safe enough topics of conversation.

Half an hour later, when Jack and Owen were coming back with the second round, the music changed to something slower. Jack set down the drinks and grabbed Ianto's hand. "Let's go."

Ianto looked up, puzzled. "Where?"

Jack nodded at the dance floor where the random group of gyrating people separated into distinct couples. "Come on."

"Go on, Ianto," Tosh encouraged. There was something on her face that told Ianto that she had a reason for wanting him out there.

Ianto took a long sip of his drink and let Jack lead him to the dance floor by the hand.

"What was that?" Gwen asked.

Tosh gave her an innocent look. "What was what?"

"Why do you give a rat's arse if they dance or not?" Owen interpreted.

"I've seen how Jack dances," Tosh said with a dreamy look over her shoulder where Jack was drawing Ianto into his arms, clearly not the least bit fazed about them being the only gay couple on the floor. He had one arm low around Ianto's hips and the other crossing from his waist up to his shoulder, holding them as close together as they could get while still in their clothes. Jack kept their cheeks pressed together and judging by the smile on Ianto's face he was either critiquing the couples around them or whispering highly suggestive comments into Ianto's ear. With Jack, it was anyone's guess.

Tosh watched them for a while before sighing. "What I wouldn't give to have someone look at me like that."

"Which one of them?" Gwen asked.

"Who cares?" Tosh said sourly.

"Oh come on, princess. I may not have the tall, dark and mysterious thing going for me, but I have a few moves." Owen stood up and offered Tosh a hand.

Tosh made a face. "Because being pitied won't make things better," she groused.

"Look, you can sit here and pine for two guys who only have eyes for each other or you can get off your arse and dance. It's up to you." Owen held his hand out again.

"Well, with such a romantic proposal, how can I possibly say 'no'?" Tosh replied, but took his hand nonetheless and let him take her to the dance floor.

"I suppose I'll look like a total wanker if I don't ask you to dance now," Rhys told Gwen with an impish grin.

"Well, don't put yourself out or anything," Gwen replied.

Rhys stood and offered her a hand, "Would you care to dance, m'lady?"

Gwen let him pull her to her feet. "Well, when you put it like that."

The slow set lasted for another two songs. After the second Tosh and Owen gave it up as as bad idea and went back to their drinks. Jack and Ianto and Gwen and Rhys stuck it through, not coming back to the table until the couples had dissolved back into a writhing throng of bodies.

Gwen found herself studying Ianto. He was quiet as he sat down, going back to his drink and leaning on Jack's shoulder as the conversation resumed.

"What?" he finally asked.

"What 'what'?" Gwen challenged.

"You keep looking at me like you aren't sure who I am or something?" He didn't sound angry, just perplexed.

"Nothing. I just…" It hit her. "You look relaxed. For the first time in a long time. It suits you," she explained.

Ianto ducked his head, not sure how to answer that. Jack looped an arm around him, hugging him in and kissing his head and going right back to the conversation with Rhys and Tosh about the debatable merits of films going to CGI stunts versus live stunts with stunt men.

Ianto was content to just listen. After two weeks of extreme upheaval, things were finally calm. He was sure Tosh had her Palm Pilot and Jack had his mobile and at any minute they could be called out to chase down a Weevil or an insane Roman soldier who had been belched through the rift. But for now, things were as good as they could get. He had his new team, even more importantly he had Jack. Jack was working to make sure his first team would get past what had happened to them. He closed his eyes and let the sounds of the bar, specifically Jack's voice, wash over him and took pleasure in just having a moment like this.


End file.
